


Magical Mishaps

by tea_leaf_reader



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: A very specific type of genre right here, Also what's the point if I don't become known as the person who writes garbage like this?, Fae & Fairies, Magical Accidents, Probably will add more tags as this goes along, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-02-14 13:34:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13008909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_leaf_reader/pseuds/tea_leaf_reader
Summary: It was well-known that Harrison didn't have much control over his abilities. This, however, no one had been expecting to happen.





	1. Accidents

The idyllic wilderness of another perfectly imperfect afternoon spent at Camp Campbell was shattered the instant a scream punctured the rare instance of relative calm that had washed over the campsite, deflating the fleeting tranquility like a balloon that no longer had the energy nor the willpower to remain afloat. 

Now, screaming would be considered a cause for concern under normal circumstances, but the one who had issued the scream did so often enough that everyone had gotten used to the numerous outbursts. Preston was the type to scream when he was happy, when he was sad, or especially when he was upset, so the piercing shriek wasn’t particularly out of place on a day such as this.

The second wail, however, succeeded in capturing Nerris’s regard.

Turning her attention away from her one-player campaign, she eyed the stage where Preston and Harrison were doing, well,  _something_. Something about  _Hamilton_  and zombies because if  _Pride and Prejudice_  could do it, why couldn’t he?, but the finer details of Preston’s new production had been lost on her. Truthfully, she’d just been glad that the enthusiastic playwright had dragged Harrison along with him instead of her – it was nice to unwind for once, to spend some time alone within her own domain.

She sighed before looking back to the stuffed animals propped up in front of her.

“What do you think, Mr. Waffles? Should I go see what those two are up to?” Nerris adjusted the frog toy to sit up straighter as she smiled fondly at it. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll just leave them alone to be idiots by themselves.”

And that really should’ve been the end of it, but then the third screech echoed forth and was rebutted by an equally loud shout from Max and Nerris decided that enough was enough.

Descending from her makeshift tower, she made a beeline towards the theater, boots stirring up loose clods of soil all the while as she stomped on, a glower forming on her face.  _Someone_  was going to get their ass handed to them, and by the looks of it, Preston would be the worthy recipient of such an ass-kicking. Maybe Harrison, too, but she hadn’t settled on that idea quite yet.

Hopping onto the dimly-lit platform, Nerris slowly ambled over to the left side of the setting and peeked around the drawn curtain, fingers sinking into the dusty velvet of the sumptuous-looking material as she searched, squinting. No, no sign of them here. It was at that moment that an unnaturally cold and unusually playful gust of wind chose to sweep past the young girl, sending her hat skittering across smooth wood before it disappeared from her line of sight. She grumbled, arms folded, as she shuffled to the opposite end of the stage and pulled back another crimson-colored drape in hot pursuit of her missing headpiece.

“ _Aha!_  There you–”

“ _Nerris?!_ ”

“ _Preston?!_ ”

Whatever she’d been expecting, it hadn’t been this.

It was the height that initially caught her off-guard. He was taller than her –  _supposed_  to be taller than her, mind you – but if he even reached her knees at this moment, she’d be genuinely surprised. Inhaling shakily, she watched, utterly stupefied, as he took a step away from her and tugged something closer to his chin. An unmistakable flash of yellow revealed the garment as being the boy’s own shirt, now almost comically large as it laid upon his small frame, and he clenched his hands into fists as Nerris finally noticed his discarded pants and shoes that were scattered here and there, remnants of what he had lost in such a short amount of time.

“Preston, what–”

“I’m going to have to ask the lady to KINDLY LEAVE.” His voice still carried, but instead of booming like a clap of thunder, it squeaked, painfully high-pitched in its vibrato.

Nerris huffed. “Don’t be stupid, I’m not leaving you like this.” 

He wilted, eyebrows crinkling together. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

“Why would you want me to leave anyways?”

“Because I DON’T want YOU to see ME like THIS!” He gestured to his miniaturized state in apparent disgust, one hand secured on his shirt so it wouldn’t accidentally slip and reveal more than he really wanted to reveal in front of Nerris. He coughed in the hopes of diverting scrutiny from the pink flush that was no doubt coloring his cheeks before continuing. “BESIDES, it’s…embarrassing.”

This she couldn’t help but unleash a chuckle at. “You? Embarrassed?”

Oh, if he hadn’t been blushing before, he certainly was now. “ _YES!_  YOU TRY DEALING WITH BECOMING THE SIZE OF A FUCKING DOLL AFTER–” He stopped, blinking, amber eyes widening as he met Nerris’s gaze head-on. “You didn’t happen to see Harrison when you were coming back here, did you?”

“No. Wait, he  _was_  in here with you. You don’t think he’s–”

“I don’t know.” She could almost see the gears shifting as a worried look overtook him. “HARRISON?”

No answer.

“Harrison, this isn’t funny.”

Still no answer.

“Harrison, the lady doth request an audience with you if you could make yourself known.”

Absolute silence.

“DAMN IT, HARRISON, IF YOU CAN HEAR US AND JUST AREN’T COMING OUT BECAUSE YOU’RE BEING SHY, PRESTON AND I ARE GOING TO–”

“I’m…I’m down here.”

She’d nearly missed it, but it had been there. If Preston’s voice now resembled a squeal, then Harrison’s was a whisper against her ear, soft and practically inaudible.

“Where?”

“Here.”

As if on cue, both Nerris and Preston twisted their heads towards a pile of achingly familiar clothing piled on the floor, cloaked halfway in shadow, as a minuscule lump began to rustle about, searching for a way out of the temporary prison. With bated breath, Nerris moved forward and, feeling a bit like she was in a dream, gingerly raised a sleeve to peer within the darkened expanse of fabric.

He was impossibly tiny, about the length of an index finger if her calculations were correct, and she gasped quietly as he winced, the slight motion illuminating something that surely hadn’t been there before this peculiar transformation.

“Harrison, are those  _wings_  on your back?!” She could barely get the words out.

Indeed, the glimmering gold of the new appendages gently  _click-clacked_  as he stared at her. He could only nod in response, swallowing thickly.

“I didn’t mean to,” he murmured, “I didn’t mean to do this.”

“I know, Harrison, Preston and I know.” 

“Yes, we know, dear.” Huh, she hadn’t heard him sneak up behind her. “And we’re going to FIX THIS, whatever THIS is, aren’t we?”

Harrison sniffled, still looking rather miserable. “Hopefully.”

“That’s the spirit,” Nerris chirped, “but I think we’re going to need a little help in order to do so. What say you, my knights? Shall I request assistance?”

Both of the boys glanced at each other.

“ONLY IF the lady proclaims it so!”

“Sure, I guess.”

Nerris smiled. Though it probably wasn’t the best plan she’d ever fabricated, strange situations required even stranger solutions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is my first Camp Camp fanfic, and I'm sorry to say that I haven't actually had the time to watch the series in its entirety yet, but I've been itching to write this for a while now, so why wait? I tried to get the feel of the characters as best I could, but would appreciate the feedback if any of you thought I did something particularly good or particularly bad. I'm planning on writing three parts to this, but we'll see how far I get with that what with the holidays coming up. Anyways, hope you enjoy!
> 
> Side note: Preston is supposed to be a brownie while Harrison is supposed to be a pixie/sprite with wings that resemble a golden tortoise beetle. I may get into that more later on, but for now, have that visual for yourself.


	2. Promises

“You know, I knew you were shit at controlling your magic or whatever, but this really takes the fucking cake.” Max raised a single eyebrow, his glare lingering on the shrunken conjuror nestled within Neil’s hand.

“Whatever it is, it isn’t magic,” Neil piped up before the boy could respond, “and if you don’t think I’m going to figure out how exactly you managed to make this smoke-and-mirrors trick of yours so convincing, Harrison, well, you’ve got another thing coming!”

He was too weary to argue with the blathering scientist. Fine, let Neil believe that this was some elaborate illusion and not a complete accident on Harrisons’ part. Let him review and ponder and overthink it until he had worked himself up into a maddened frenzy without even realizing that, in truth, Harrison was simply a halfwit and a failure of a magician who was now cursed in more ways than one. He exhaled through his nose, eyes closing. He hadn’t felt this bad about his abilities since the day he had made his baby brother disappear without a trace, and the subsequent days wherein his hope began to extinguish little by little when it soon became clear that his beloved sibling wouldn’t be returning anytime soon. That heartache, an old wound, was made fresh with the image of Preston’s face, stricken with sheer panic, seared into his mind’s eye.

He’d been so afraid, the fear in his eyes mirroring that of his parents’. Inflicting that much pain upon anyone was awful enough, but knowing it had been Preston sent an excruciating pang through him that seemed to shake his very core.

_This is all your fault._

Harrison curled into himself, feeling as small inside as he was on the outside.

“So, how the hell are you guys going to fix this?” Max deadpanned.

“I hope they don’t!” Nikki interjected, giggling wildly as she twirled around with Preston dangling in her arms much like a terrified cat who just wanted to be left to his own devices. It’d been unanimously decided beforehand that Nikki would in no way be holding Harrison for fear that she’d unintentionally squash him or the flower petals he was currently using as coverage since his clothes didn’t fit anymore. Preston was bigger and, besides, he could afford the luxury of donning the blue-and-black sorceress’s cloak of Morgana le Fay, Nerris’s plush giraffe.

“No, Harrison’s going to fix this - _we’re_  going to fix this.” Nerris interjected.

“Better do it before Harrison gets blown away by the wind,” Nikki stopped whirling, expression adopting a somber tone, “or Preston gets nicked by some coyotes who think he’s a glorified ham hock or one of their own children.” As five confused and slightly horrified stares met Nikki head-on, her serious countenance broke with a beam. “But I’m sure that won’t happen! Worst case scenario, you guys both become, uh, you again! Best case scenario, you go and live out in the forest and eat sunlight and forage with the bears for sustenance! Oh, won’t that be so exciting?!” 

“NOT REALLY.” Preston chimed in, appearing just on the verge of vomiting from Nikki’s continuous swirling if the green hue of his skin had anything to say about it.

“Oh, oh, if Harrison figures out how to undo the curse, then maybe he can redo it, too, and he can turn  _me_  into something!” 

“I wouldn’t count on it, Nikki.”

“Ah, not even a mermaid with razor-sharp teeth and eels for hair?”

“Not even that.” The illusionist shook his head, but couldn’t help a grin at Nikki’s good-natured insistence that his powers were not something to be shunned. He managed to catch Nerris’s eye, and she smiled, and he knew that things would be okay.

Before she could become too preoccupied with the way her heart had fluttered when Harrison had glanced up at her, Nerris was shaken out of her brief reverie by a tug at her wizard’s cape. Max stood in front of her, frowning, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie.

“What exactly do you want from us?”

Nerris paused for a second, contemplating it. “I just need you to cover me until we can get this whole mess straightened out.”

“And how are we supposed to do that?”

“I need to lie to David and Gwen.”

Well, at least she wasn’t beating around the bush. “Lie to them?”

“If they ask where Preston and Harrison are, just tell them that they’re sick or something and are in our tent and do not need to be disturbed under any circumstances.”

“Look, I know David and Gwen are both dumbasses, but they’re not going to fall for that.”

“Well, what else do you want me to say? Do you think it’s a good idea to tell them the truth just for them to freak out about it? They’re not going to appreciate that Harrison has gained plus five in flying like I have! Besides, then...then they’ll...”

“What?”

She gulped, the words seemingly clinging to her throat. “I don’t know what they’d do. That’s what I’m afraid of.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m worried that they’ll call Harrison’s parents and Preston’s grandma and, I don’t know, try to get them involved or something?” He stared at her as if she wasn’t making a lick of sense, but she could see by the tell-tale glint in his jade eyes that something had come across.

“Why do you care so much about what happens to those two morons?”

“Because they’re my friends.” They were true words, or true enough. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t do the same for Nikki and Neil if they were in this predicament?”

“They’re not that fucking stupid.”

“You get my point.”

Max harrumphed, arms crossing over his chest. “Fine, we’ll help you, but don’t get all fucking sappy about it, okay?”

Nerris grinned, relief pooling in her gut at Max’s agreement.

It’d be fine, it was all going to be fine in the end. She’d make sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, Nerris, the truth would set you free if you admitted you actually liked both of those boys.
> 
> Anyways, here's the second chapter of this little story, and honestly, this is probably the fastest I've written a follow-up to anything in a long time. I'm not 100% sure where the ending is going, but I guess I'll just let the tide carry me there. Also, two things I've learned while writing this chapter: Nikki is an absolute pleasure to write dialogue for and all of Harrison's dialogue is about a thousand times funnier if you imagine him sounding like he's just inhaled a whole balloon's worth of helium because he is tiny and his vocal cords are also tiny. Do with it what you will.
> 
> Update: Not sure why all of the notes are appearing on one page, but I'm too tired to try to fix it right now.


	3. Lies

“Sick, huh?” Gwen quirked a single eyebrow, her expression contorting into one of unabashed doubt. It was a look Nerris had seen a thousand times over from her own mother, a challenging sort of silence that was seeped with skepticism.

“Um, yeah, just a…just a summer flu I guess.”

Really, that had been all that was needed to convince David of their sincerity. Concern, vibrant concern, had been easily placated, the figurative fire suppressed before kindling could be sparked into a roaring inferno. He’d went on about how the common cold was a rarity out here in the pristine wilderness of Camp Campbell, but he supposed even fresh air couldn’t stop contagions from spreading from camper to camper, and that was about the point that Nerris stopped listening in favor of trying to work out how exactly they were going to fix this muddled-up mess of an undesired quest. Though a proficient mage through and through, this magic was beyond the likes of her, and it boggled her mind how such a lowly dwarf as Harrison could’ve summoned the mana to achieve such a feat without draining his energy reserves down to nothing.

“…and make sure to tell me if they start running a fever or anything like that. Actually, I may come check on them after I’m done in town just to see if–”

“Ah, there’s no need for that.” Nerris remarked, cutting off Max before he could speak and inevitably sour David’s overly chipper mood. “I mean, we’ll let you know if we – er, I – need any help. I’ll keep a good eye on them tonight.” She flashed David what she hoped would be considered a winning smile. 

Thankfully, his features softened at the sight of it, and he released a grateful sigh as he tousled Nerris’s hair. “Thank you, Nerris. I’m glad to see you guys are getting along so well.” The apparently inexhaustible pride shining in the man’s eyes almost made her feel bad that she and the others were duping him like this.

Almost.

“Okie dokie then! See you later!” And just like that, their first sucker was gone.

“What an idiot.” Max muttered, 

“Yeah, I was kind of expecting that to be harder? I even had my dice ready just in case I had to roll for an extra boost of charm!” Nerris pulled the glistening trinkets from her pocket and gave them a firm shake. “No one can resist the charms of Nerris the Cute, not even David!”

“Whatever. At least the hard part is over.”

But how wrong he had been.

Nerris gulped, meeting Gwen’s suspicious gaze head-on. If David had been like an orc, slow and simple-witted, then Gwen was like a dragon, shrewd and quick to catch on.  _She is an entirely different monster_ , Nerris thought to herself,  _and we have stepped willingly into her trap_.

“A summer flu? With weather like this?” She motioned to the cerulean sky, not a cloud to be seen for miles and miles around. Even the inexplicable gust of wind that had troubled Nerris earlier had conveniently, coincidentally vanished.

“Well, they have been in the back of the theater all day, and you know how drafty it can get back there.” Oh, that was stupid, but it was all she had to build on.

“Not drafty enough to warrant a cold.”

“You don’t know that!” Nikki burst in when Nerris faltered.

The younger girl instantly clamped her mouth shut as soon as the displeased glare of the older woman fell upon her. Rubbing at her temples, she sighed, not a relieved sigh like David had breathed, but one of tremendous exasperation.

“Look, I know you’re lying to me, and while I’m not sure why, I don’t really have the energy to deal with it right now. Just…just don’t kill each other, all right, and don’t cause any property damage. Scratch that, don’t cause any severe damage at all because then I’d have to fill out a whole shit ton of paperwork, and you little shits wouldn’t want to know what would happen to you if I managed to get my hands on you after that.” Hands involuntarily balling into fists, she continued. “Anyways, can you promise me that at least? Whatever you’re doing, I don’t want to see it.”

Nerris nodded vigorously, Nikki issued a salute, and Max rolled his eyes.

“Good. And one more thing: Don’t tell David about this.”

“Oh, don’t want him riding your ass for being a shitty counselor?”

“Can it, brat, or I’ll send him to check up on you as soon as he gets back to the campsite.”

Max snorted, but didn’t respond.

Gwen’s stare was trained on them for a heartbeat longer before she began plodding away without so much as a goodbye. 

“Thanks, Gwen, you’re the best!” Nerris called out.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know.” The counselor yelled back as she retreated to her cabin.

Once she was out of direct earshot, Max unleashed a snicker.

“You could get away with murder in this fucking camp if it came down to it.”

“Wouldn’t doubt it.” Nerris agreed.

“So, are we done here?” The question came suddenly, but it wasn’t unanticipated by any means. Nerris had known going into this that Max would want to wriggle his way out of personal involvement with her and the other two as soon as possible. His vices, if anything, had become somewhat predictable.

Nerris tapped her chin thoughtfully, pretending to deliberate on it. “I suppose you are.”

“Great.”

“Seriously, you guys, thanks for the help today.”

“Aw, you’re welcome!” Nikki grinned, her sharp teeth glinting ever-so-slightly with the action.

“Yeah, whatever. Just don’t expect it again if magic boy manages to royally fuck up a second time.” Max spat out, but the usual malice in his voice wasn’t as prominent.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“All right, enough chit-chat! Let’s go get some food and check in on the boys!” Nikki hollered, already scrambling over to the mess hall like a wild hyena closing in on its wounded prey.

“Is she always this…exuberant?”

“Have you not seen her around the camp?”

“I have, but I, uh, thought she was a little calmer around you.”

“Nikki?  _Calm_?  _Nikki_  and  _calm_  don’t go together. And what do you mean around me?” 

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“It better be nothing, four eyes.”

And with that, they started after Nikki, unaware of the utter chaos that was ensuing just a few tents down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back with a new chapter! And this time we introduce David and Gwen because of course they have to make a brief appearance. On an unrelated side note, I believe this story is going to end up being five parts instead of three like I originally intended. To be fair, though, I actually didn't really have a plot line established when I started this beast, but now that I do, I want to see it carried through properly. 
> 
> Also, this installment was written primarily for carrying the tale forward. The next chapter will be the fun one to write and to read but, oh, poor Neil.


	4. Changes

Amidst the maelstrom of activity that had unfolded within the last few hours alone, one thing remained certain: There was a logical explanation for this supposed phenomena of Harrison’s and Neil was going to get to the bottom of it.

In his mind, science made sense. Things were either scientifically sound or they were a crock of shit, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. For every action, there was a reaction, and for every problem, there was a solution. Even if some solutions hadn’t been fathomed yet, they were out there somewhere, drifting in an abyss of undiscovered knowledge, bundles of brilliant ideas just ripe for the plucking. It was that fundamental notion that intrigued him, that innate drive of comprehending the uncomprehendable. After all, what could be more rewarding a pursuit?

Nonetheless, what was presently transpiring succeeded in baffling him to no conceivable end.

“LOOK at my EARS! LOOK AT MY FEET!” Preston wailed, hands pressed against his face in alarm. 

What he had believed to be a mere slight-of-hand at a single glance didn’t explain how nor why Preston and Harrison seemed to be changing before his very eyes. For one, the playwright’s ears had elongated quite drastically before peaking in a manner that reminded Neil of the imitation elven appendages Nerris wore on her ears seemingly without fail. His feet had grown, too, almost unbelievably large in correspondence with his current size, and when Neil had happened to catch Preston’s eye while he was pacing around the inside of the compact tent like some kind of caged animal, he noted with increasing worry that the boy’s pupils were now dilated to the point that he could scarcely make out the amber color of his irises.

But why was he concerned? He couldn’t say for sure. It was just one of Harrison’s stupid,  _stupid_  magic tricks, child’s play at best, an insult to his intelligence at worst.

It’s not as if he  _cared_  about their well-being.  _That_  was an idiotic thought in and of itself.

All he knew was that something wasn’t adding up, not with the way Harrison was shifting before him.

He’d peered on in cautious fascination as his rival’s legs had curved and contorted at irregular angles until the soft flesh had apparently melted away. In their stead were limbs that looked remarkably like those of an insect, smooth, glossy, and as thin as the silk adorning a spider’s web. If that wasn’t enough, though, the glittering wings that had already been established when he had first seen Harrison in this altered state and the thin antennae that appeared to be emerging from his forehead really sealed the deal that the magician did, in fact, seem to be transforming into a bug of some sort. 

It was unsettling to say the least, especially since all of the illusionist’s gumption and smug attitude had disappeared, rendering him unusually quiet. Despite his own doubts about the situation at hand and Preston’s steady stream of falsely enthusiastic chatter that had started up after Harrison, shivering though it wasn’t cold, had refused to meet his gaze, a silent agreement hung in the air between him and the dramatist that whatever this was, it wasn’t good, and it needed to be mended soon.

He frowned, harrumphing, before giving Harrison a gentle poke with his fingertip.

“Don’t you think this little “magic trick” of yours has gone on long enough?”

Harrison blinked and stared blankly at him before a halfhearted attempt at a wry smile lit up his facial features. “Ah, so it’s a magic trick now, is it? I thought you didn’t believe in magic.”

“I didn’t say that. I didn’t even  _imply_  that.”

“What  _are_  you implying then, hm?”

Oh, he should’ve known this was coming. Neil scoffed, turning his head away, an instantaneous rush of anger bubbling to the surface as he did so.

_What a cocky piece of shit._

“Don’t try to distract me and spin this so it sounds like I’m buying into this whole bullshit spiel of “magic” you’ve been weaving since day fucking one of camp, okay?” He leaned forward, face inches away from the illusionist’s. “You and I both know that you just manipulate people into believing that a few silly card tricks and a rabbit being pulled from a hat are some great feats of a true magician instead of a con artist who thrives on every bit of attention he can get his hands on.” He smirked, taking immense satisfaction in his rival’s deflated expression.

The boy was quick to rebound, however, and he raised himself to his full two inches of height before fixing the scientist with a murderous glare.

“What’s your problem?”

“My problem is you!”

“Me, not my magic?”

“You  _and_  your magic.”

“You got a lot of nerve saying that to me when you rely on science so much.”

“That’s because science is  _real_ , dumbass, not some elaborate fluke.”

“Not real, huh? Tell me, does  _this_  feel real to you, Neil?!” Sucking in a deep breath, he snapped with as much force as he could muster. “ _Alakazam!_ ”

By the time he had fully realized his mistake, it was far too late to undo it.

Neil coughed, a wave of sudden nausea overtaking him, and subsequently stifled a scream when he felt his fingers stiffen, paralysis settling in. His joints weren’t far behind, locking up so that he couldn’t properly move even if he’d wanted to, but he was much too preoccupied with his hands to notice. Tree bark, chestnut in color and sporting the whorls that only wood and other organic plant life possessed, began slowly climbing up his arms. It was only when his disoriented mind put two and two together that it wasn’t wood growing on his arms but rather his arms turning into wood that the fanatical hysteria finally sunk in.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harrison, mouth agape, his eyes widened in alarm. “I’m so sorry. Please, let me try to fix–”

“Like HELL you can fix this, cunt!”

His legs seemed to find the burst of energy needed to propel him towards Preston’s bed. It had to be here, he had to have it here somewhere, if anyone in this goddamn camp had it, it’d have to be him…

“Um, Neil, what are you doing?”

“YOU SHUT YOUR WHORE MOUTH, HARRISON!” He gestured to Preston who had retreated to the other side of the tent. “Do you have a mirror in here?”

“A mirror?” Confusion was evident in his voice.

“Yes, Preston, a mirror!”

“In the trunk by the bed. It’s unlocked.”

Frantically, the boy ripped open the top of the weathered chest and began rummaging around inside until the desired object was in his grasp.

What he saw reflected back at him in the polished pane of glass was so much worse than he had feared.

The fibrous covering of vegetal material had enveloped his entire body, face included, and the soft tresses of his hair had been replaced with a tangle of vines and leaves and little flowers that looked suspiciously like honeysuckle when he examined them closer. In a daze, he yanked one of the blossoms off with an experimental tug and inhaled sharply as a surge of pain throbbed in the exact location where the bloom had been.

His eyes, a sea of pure blue, no white to be found anymore, with a single black pinprick of a pupil in the middle stared at him in abject horror.

What  _was_  he?!

Distantly, he heard the entryway of the tent rustle and the other two campers squeak in surprise.

“I reckoned you kids were up to no good, but I didn’t think you’d gone and got yourselves into a right mess like this.” The Quartermaster sighed, rubbing at his temples with his hook. “Damn hooligans don’t know when to stop, do ya? Now we got to get the Moss King involved in this hullabaloo, and he’s not going to be happy ‘bout it I tell you what.” He snorted, hocking a loogie right there on the floor.

Somehow, Neil’s anxiety managed to ramp up tenfold, his heart beating a mile a minute. One thing remained certain: If he made it through the night without going into cardiac arrest, he’d be the luckiest bastard on this side of Lake Lilac.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate chapter title: Neil tries to get along with Harrison for 0.02 seconds, fails, comes for his fucking life, and instantly regrets it.
> 
> Anyways, this chapter was a hell of a lot of fun to write even if it did take longer to pump out than the other three chapters combined. Hopefully the hard work I put into it of trying to blend together elements that catapulted the plot forwards as well as a little bit of good ol' fashioned body horror in the form of descriptions on what's happening to Preston and Harrison at the moment as a result of Harrison's admittedly unstable magic were relatively successful and are enjoyable to read.
> 
> Also, I should mention what Neil is, yes? Our little scientist is now a dryad, or a tree/nature spirit from Greek mythology to put it in layman's terms. I chose that for him because becoming a nature spirit of sorts seems way out there for a character like him (and that's amusing to me), but also because dryads are typically depicted as being beautiful women which Neil is definitively not (and that's even more amusing to me).


	5. Encounters

“Do you think he’s going to forgive you?” Preston mumbled, side-eyeing the magician roosted on Nerris’s shoulder.

“I’m not really sure.” Harrison muttered back, gaze dipping down to the dramatist resting in Nerris’s arms.

As if on cue, both of them swiveled their heads. To the right there was Max, trudging along like he’d rather be literally anywhere else besides enmeshed in a thicket of trees that seemed to be growing denser and denser the further they went. To the left there was Nikki, bouncing here and there and pointing at whatever trivial thing happened to capture her attention capricious as it may be. And then there was  _him_ , Neil, appearing a lot less like himself than anyone wanted to outwardly admit. The woodland nymph vibes he was currently giving off coupled with the two or so feet of height he’d gained that rendered him uncomfortably spindly had done wonders to silence his initial displeasure. He towered over them, weaving in and out of copses like a Slenderman of the forest. Somehow, it was fitting – a soundless group to accompany the stillness provided by the canopy of stars and the inky blackness of night hanging overhead.

“Has he said ANYTHING AT ALL?”

“No, he hasn’t. He won’t even talk to Max or Nikki right now.” Harrison sighed. “I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t speak to me after this. Actually, I don’t think I’d blame any of you guys if you all stopped speaking to me after this is over.” There was a sudden strangled noise followed by a soft whimpering and both of the campers close enough to hear Harrison’s faint voice knew that he had started to cry.

“Hey, come here.” Preston murmured, arms reaching out to grab Harrison, enfolding the boy in a tight embrace. Tenderly stroking his hair, he allowed the illusionist to lean into him as he quietly sobbed. “I can’t speak for Neil or Max or Nikki or anyone else here, but I’M not mad at you, love, and I don’t think Nerris is mad at you. We understand it was an accident, nothing more, nothing less.”

“But Neil–”

“–was taunting you. I’m not going to SAY he DESERVED what happened to him, but–” 

“–he probably deserved what happened to him.” Nerris chimed in, shifting her weight so she could hold them better. “But, yeah, Preston’s right. I mean, I know I say a lot of, um, maybe not-so-nice things to you, but I–” She cleared her throat, fighting the urge to fidget with her glasses out of nervousness. In truth, it probably was a good thing that her hands were presently occupied. “I’m glad that you’re here, Harrison, and I’m glad that Preston’s here, and I’m glad we could all spend this summer together even if you both are annoying sometimes.”

“Annoying? ME?!”

“You try waking up with  _Dear Evan Hansen_  blaring and tell me that that isn’t annoying.”

“ _DEAR EVAN HANSEN_  is a DISPLAY of TRUE ART, NERRIS.”

“Not at six in the morning it’s not. It’d be like if I woke you up by throwing dice at you.”

“How do I KNOW that you HAVEN’T?”

“Really? With as light a sleeper as you are, you’re telling me you don’t think you’d feel a pair of hard plastic dice being chucked at your head at high speeds?”

“I don’t know, Nerris, you tell ME.”

“…I’m going to kick your ass as soon as we unshrink you, Goodplay.”

This raised a laugh from Harrison, a genuine laugh, and they both shared a knowing smile as their tensed muscles relaxed. 

“I think we’re nearing the sight. Boy, turn off that flashlight.” The Quartermaster barked, pitching a thumb at Max.

“Fine, whatever.” Max grumbled haughtily, but did as he was told. Their only source of illumination flickered once, perhaps twice, before blinking out with an unceremonious wink.

And as soon as the device’s beams had been diminished, the atmosphere of the forest shifted rather rapidly.

“What the actual FUCK?” Max yelled without any apparent deliberation on his part at the multitude of eyes that were now watching the company’s every movement. The little flecks of light seemed to be floating, drifting lackadaisically back and forth in the chilled breeze that ruffled the treetops, glinting in the moonlight.

“What are those?” Came Neil’s voice, a curious warble of a sound that made everyone in the general vicinity except for the Quartermaster start in surprise.

“They’re sprites,” the old man retorted nonchalantly, “or some nasty little bastards who kinda look like bugs or plants when you see ‘em up close as I like to call them myself.”

“Sprites? You mean they’re faeries?” Nerris breathed, eyes lighting up with renewed eagerness.

“You hadn’t worked that out by now? Fuckin’ don’t know nothing about anything. That’s what happens when all they teach is that algebra shit in school.”

“Wait, is this who we’re here to see? Are we going to get to meet them?!” Nikki asked, clapping her hands together, absolutely overflowing with mirth.

The Quartermaster shook his head. “Not them,” he gestured over his shoulder, “but him.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Preston whispered, eyes widening in awe.

There was a single deer, indescribably massive in size, that had stepped out from the sprawling underbrush of the woodlands to greet the weary wanderers. Now, by itself, a deer wasn’t normally an imposing animal in the slightest, but this deer was clearly much more than a deer, or maybe it wasn’t a deer at all. After all, no living deer possessed an intertwining mass of pronged antlers that protruded from a skull glowing cream-colored in the vast expanse of blackness. It strode forward, eyes locked on the small band of shaking children, or what would’ve been its eyes had there not been two empty sockets in their stead, sockets that seemed to see without actually having the ability to do so.

Harrison gulped, curling closer to Preston and Nerris for good measure.

When the supposed deer was within feet of them, it reared up without warning, causing the six campers to scream – five campers to scream, Max would later claim, because there was no way he’d screamed because of some stupid asshole deer – but instead of stomping down, it remained upward, form shimmering as it started to metamorphosize before their very eyes.

The Quartermaster simply laughed, scratching at his face with his hook. “Kids, meet the Moss King, lord of the sprites, guardian of the forest, the person who’s hopefully gonna get you all straightened out by the end of the evenin’.” He contemplated that for a moment before snickering. “If he’s feelin’ particularly gracious that is.”

Cloaked by darkness, a thousand more laughs, laughs as sharp as broken shards of glass, joined in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can't convince me that there's not a liminal space located somewhere deep in the woods around the camp, or that the Quartermaster isn't privy to said liminal space nor the creatures that travel in and out of it all willy-nilly. In fact, they probably know one another quite well, he and these creatures.
> 
> So, here's chapter five of a story I swore was going to be three chapters, then five chapters, and now I'm thinking seven chapters. Ironically, I'm hoping to wrap this beast up soon before I have to go back to school in a little over a week because I know I'll be completely drained of energy and time once it rolls around again, but I keep stretching this story out longer and longer, but I'm honestly pretty pleased with it considering I haven't watched the series in full yet.
> 
> And yes, I had to cause Neil further dismay - it's just my duty as an author and, besides, it's not one of my stories unless it has faeries and the faeries aren't cute and cuddly but rather reminiscent of the old world Fae or something out of the Spiderwick Chronicles. That's why he's a lanky boy now.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you continue to enjoy this as well as continue to leave comments if you find yourself so inclined to. Just know that I read each one of them and maybe tear up a little and/or full-on cry because y'all are being so sweet and generous with your positive remarks.


	6. Sacrifices

He wasn’t human.

Well, not entirely anyways – there were segments of clean-shaven, unwrinkled, relatively anthropomorphic skin peeking out in places that suggested he was probably more like them than he appeared, but that meant little to the campers as they gaped at the being standing before them. The entity was twelve, perhaps thirteen feet in height, and acted as some nightmarish mish-mash of a creature both  _alive_  and  _not_  with his knobbly, branch-like limbs of dark oak, animal skull of a cranium, and exposed torso that boasted of what seemed to be nothing more than an ivory spine encircled with white water lilies all enclosed by a translucent liquid that was defying the laws of basic physics by not simply spilling forth onto the forest floor as he loped about, eyeing the group in front of him.

Nerris inhaled sharply before subconsciously tightening her grip on Preston and Harrison. _In all my years of adventuring_ ,  _I’ve never seen anything like this before. By Merlin’s beard, I hope he doesn’t try to strike us down. I mean, I’m sure he won’t, but I don’t think I have the health stats to take him on by myself if he does try something, and no one else here is of a high enough level to even inflict a low-ranking gnome’s worth of damage on him! Oh, this isn’t going to end well at all._

“ _ **IT’S BEEN SOME TIME SINCE YOU’VE BROUGHT CHILDREN TO MY REALM, SEANFHEAR.**_ ” The Moss King rumbled in a tone like far-flung lightning. “ ** _WHAT’S THE OCCASION?_** ”

The Quartermaster chuckled, head tilted back ever so slightly to take in the faery in full. “Seems as if one of the kids this year has a way with incantations and such.”

“ _ **IS THAT SO?**_ ”

“Clearly. Wouldn’t you agree, Maurelle?”

“Certainly, but I thought that was obvious, but–”

“–maybe it isn’t.”

“Possibly not. Hey, I like your ears. Aren’t they marvelous, Orlaith?”

“They truly are. What’s your name, little one?”

The young mage perked up at the direct inquiry. She hadn’t registered them at first, the scratchy yet remarkably honeyed voices apparently emanating from thin air, but it soon became clear to her that they’d caught the attention of more than just this “moss king” character if the dozens of flitting lights filling the clearing had anything to say about it. She smiled, squinting to see the pair of  _real_ ,  _actual_ sprites that had decided to nestle on top of her head of all places.

_Okay, keep calm, Nerris. All of your training has prepared you for this moment. Don’t screw this up._

“You may call me Nerris the Cute.” She said after a beat of silence. 

_Nailed it._

“Nerris! That’s a  _fine_  name for a young elf.” The sprite that resembled a sunflower – Orlaith, was it? – squealed. Nerris noted that he was taller than her counterpart, slimmer, with a long, angular face that insinuated she might be a bit older, too. Her obsidian eyes gleamed in the sparse rays of starshine, something unreadable skulking beneath the lustrous exterior.

“It is indeed.” The coniferous one, Maurelle, concurred. She was shorter, squatter, and all-around more circular than the first sprite, but that didn’t make her any less lovely to take in. There was a slight edge to her silvery words, words that almost seemed to be masquerading something much, much colder.

“So, tell us, Nerris the Cute, what brings you out here this evening?” Orlaith chirped kindly.

“Well,” she began uncertainly, “I guess you could say it’s an accident that turned into a quest–”

“An accident, huh? Are you positive about this?” Maurelle cheeped politely.

She winced as she felt Harrison stiffen. “Yeah, just…just an accident.” She didn’t like the manner in which they were asking these things. It felt less like the friendly banter it had been mere moments ago and more like some sort of interrogation on their part.

“Ah, but the guilt is still there, is it not?” Orlaith purred, raising an eyebrow at Harrison.

“It must be. After all, one can’t inflict such a curse upon their companions without feeling as if they have committed some wrongdoing, isn’t that right, sister?” Maurelle prodded, winking knowingly at Preston. 

“You are most correct.” She giggled, an ear-splitting gurgle of a noise that made the girl see red. 

_Nasty little bastards is right._

“I think you two should leave.” It was said through gritted teeth.

They shared a knowing glance, smirking. “Fine, we’ll leave, but only because–”

“–our lord wishes to speak with your friend, you see–”

“–and we don’t want to be near the splash zone when things go belly-up–”

“–for they will surely go belly up! Ta-ta, Nerris the Unfortunate and company.”

And with that, they had disappeared.

“ ** _THEY CAN BE IRKSOME, CAN’T THEY? MY CHILDREN KNOW NO ETIQUETTE._** ” The behemoth sighed much like an exhausted father attempting to wrangle a gaggle of misbehaving toddlers. “ _ **BUT THAT’S BEHIND US NOW. COME, I WISH TO SPEAK TO YOU, YOUNG WITCH, AS WELL AS THE YOUNG BARD AND THE YOUNG SCIENTIST RESPECTIVELY.**_ ”

“I–” Nerris started, but found herself at a loss for words.

“ ** _WORRY NOT, CHILD, I’M NOT OUT FOR BLOOD TODAY._** ” He beamed, revealing row upon row of serrated fangs that didn’t belong to any man no animal that she knew of. “ ** _WE ARE NOT HUNTING. THIS IS NO HUNT._** ”

“SPLENDID! Then let’s just get this OVER WITH so we can GO HOME.” Preston cried, swinging out of Nerris’s grasp before landing with a surprising amount of grace and composure on the dew-speckled grass below. There it was, that misguided confidence that she had grown to accept and to love and right now to hate because it was fabricated and in no way bona fide nor authentic. He was putting on a show for her sake, for Harrison’s sake, and perhaps for Neil’s sake as well, but she couldn’t be sure about that last one. 

“It’ll be all right.” Harrison’s feeble assurance was accented by a gentle  _flap-flap-flapping_  of wings taking flight albeit with a lot less finesse than Preston had demonstrated. As Nerris watched him, she noted the unmistakable outline of a shadow pass overhead, and she presumed that Neil had successfully joined the others.

Everyone looked on in anticipation, breath bated. Well, mostly everyone. The Quartermaster had taken to chasing and cussing out the sprites that had managed to purloin his hat while he had been preoccupied. Still, even with the incessant stream of expletives ringing in the night air, an aura of apprehension had gripped the campers, gluing them to their respective spots.

“Okay, let’s do this.” Preston exclaimed, cutting through the accumulated quiet.

“ ** _SINCE YOU SEEM SO EAGER TO PUT THIS FIASCO ASIDE, DUINE ÓG, I WILL MAKE THIS SHORT AND SWEET: I NEED SOMETHING OF PERSONAL VALUE IN ORDER TO MEND YOUR MISTAKE._** ”

“NEED something of PERSONAL VALUE? WHAT on EARTH does THAT MEAN?”

“ ** _THINK OF THIS AS A TRADE-OFF. I WILL GIVE YOU MY AID IF ONE OF YOU THREE GIVES ME SOMETHING THAT IS VALUABLE TO YOU PERSONALLY AS RESTITUTION. THINGS AREN’T GIVEN FOR FREE, YOU KNOW._** ”

“Well, I’m sure as hell not giving you anything. If anyone should give something up, it should be Harrison since he’s the one who got us into this mess.” Neil muttered, folding his scrawny arms across his chest in plain disgruntlement.

But before Harrison could interject, Preston piped up, a strange look spreading across his face as he did so.

“Does it have to be something…like, something–”

“ _ **PHYSICAL? NO, IT DOES NOT.**_ ” The Moss King canted his skeletal head, an unasked question on his nonexistent lips. “ ** _ARE YOU CERTAIN OF THIS, CHILD?_** ”

“Yes, I’m certain.”

“ _ **YOU CANNOT TAKE THIS BACK.**_ ”

“I know.”

“ ** _IT WILL BE AS IF IT NEVER EXISTED AT ALL._** ”

“I KNOW!” Preston groused, eyes snapping shut. “Just get it over with before I think about it for TOO LONG.” His arms extended at his sides, ready, waiting.

“ _ **…VERY WELL.**_ ” Came the gripe of the leviathan. 

He stepped forward, bending down so as to be nearer to Preston, and before anyone could fully process what had happened and was presently happening, the enormous sovereign deftly yet delicately propped a finger on each side of the playwright’s temples, humming softly all the while, an uncanny sort of crooning in an unfamiliar tongue. Within a few seconds of starting, he stopped, evidently satisfied with his own handiwork. Ever so slowly, he moved one digit, than the other, and there was a host of gasps that resounded from the onlooking children at the sight of a wisp of something feathery and pale blue in color being extracted from Preston’s head. The unknown object was jerking about as if it were alive, and the Moss King only grinned as he tucked it away for safekeeping.

“What the actual  _fuck_  just happened?” Max demanded. “What was that thing?”

“ ** _HE WILL TELL YOU IF HE WISHES TO TELL YOU, BUT IT’S_** _ **OUT OF SIGHT, OUT OF MIND NOW, YES? THAT DIDN’T PAIN YOU, DID IT?**_ ”

“N-No, I think I’m fine.” Preston squeaked out.

“ _ **THEN IT’S BEEN A PLEASURE DOING BUSINESS WITH YOU.**_ ” He paused, eyes hovering on Harrison. “ _ **GOOD LUCK IN YOUR FUTURE ENDEAVORS, CAILLEACH BEAG, AND MAY YOUR BROTHER FIND YOU SOON IF YOU SHOULD NOT FIND HIM FIRST.**_ ”

The magician’s face became ashen at the beast’s words. “My…?”

The Moss King snapped.

And just like that, the faeries were gone, the forest was gone and, most importantly, the malediction was gone.

“Wait, we’re back at the campsite?” Nerris questioned, inspecting the horizon warily. Curious, it shouldn’t have been daybreak already, yet there was the sun starting to climb into the sky, bathing the tents and the surrounding trees in a hazy orange glow.

“Who the hell cares where we are? We’re back to normal!” Neil practically sang, eyes sweeping over his body before landing squarely on Harrison with a scowl. “I’d say it was fun, but it was about as far from fun as I can think of, and that’s saying something at this hellhole of a camp. Up yours, you giant prick!” And with a flip of his middle finger, the scientist was off, Max and Nikki close behind him.

As she looked on after them, Nerris felt an arm wrap around her torso before she was pulled into a bone-crushingly tight hug that nearly knocked the wind out of her lungs.

“It’s so GOOD to be BACK!”

“Yeah, agreed, but if you could keep from killing Harrison and I, I’m sure we’d both appreciate it.”

“Oh, sorry.” The dramatist uttered, smiling sheepishly. “Guess I don’t know my own strength.”

“Guess not.” Nerris grinned, socking him playfully on the shoulder.

In a way, though, he was right. It  _was_  good to be back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second to last chapter is up! This one kind of got away from me in terms of length but, well, I suppose that's bound to happen sometimes.
> 
> This chapter was a little different from the others in that we have three original characters thrown in there to mess with the campers. Orlaith (Irish for "golden queen/princess") and Maurelle (French for "dark, elfin") were both cooked up for this story and this story alone, but the Moss King is a character of my own who is both near and dear to my heart, so it was a blast including him in this little tale. I'd like to think that he and the Quartermaster go way back, and even if they don't particularly see each other as friends, there's enough of a relationship between them that they do view one another with respect. Unfortunately, the same can't be said for Nerris and the two flower sprites I'm afraid.
> 
> The last chapter of this ongoing saga will hopefully be written and posted by the end of this week/early next week as I'd like to at least get season one of Camp Camp watched in the next few days, so my time and energy will be going there. Until then, I guess you all will just have to keep wondering what exactly Preston gave up in order to free himself and his friends (and come prepared with some tissues next time - it may get a little bit sad). ;)  
> -  
> SEANFHEAR - old man  
> DUINE ÓG - young man  
> CAILLEACH BEAG - little witch (not sure if that translated correctly though)
> 
> ...Also, yes, my "Harrison is a witch" headcanon? Alive and thriving, baby.


	7. Tactics

“You know, it’s kind of nice not being the same height as of one of these things anymore,” Harrison smirked, holding up a playing card with a single gloved hand, “and it’s kind of nice to be looking down at you again instead of having to crane my neck up to see you in full.”

Nerris couldn’t help but unleash a snort at that, rolling her eyes all the while. Ever the charmer he was. “You’re telling me you didn’t want to spend the rest of your life in the forest with the bears and the platypus and whatever else Nikki said?” She paused, raising an eyebrow. “Or Maurelle and Orlaith?” 

He made a noise of blatant disgust, but smiled nonetheless at the sarcasm absolutely saturating her tone. “As, ahem,  _lovely_  as those two were, I think I missed being me-sized too much to stay with them and their king. Besides, I would’ve missed indoor plumbing, and the forest doesn’t have indoor plumbing.”

“Indoor plumbing? Have you  _been_  at this camp for the past month and a half?”

“Fine, fine, even I’ll admit that that was a bad example. Hm, let’s see…”

“You would’ve missed doing magic too much?”

“I could still do magic.”

“Yeah, but not with any of your equipment. Can’t really hold rings or pull handkerchiefs out of a top hat that’s, like, three times as big as you are.”

“You got me there.”

“How about wearing clothes? Would you have missed that?”

“God, yes. I can’t tell you how much I hated wearing those flowers.” 

“Mm, yeah, I’d imagine so. Honestly, we probably should’ve tried to find you flowers that weren’t pink. Pink doesn’t match your status nor your skill set as a dwarf.”

Now it was Harrison’s turn to roll his eyes. “Sure, okay, yeah. By the way, where did you guys even find those, uh, those–”

“Geraniums?”

“Yeah, where did you guys find those anyways? I haven’t seen them around here before.”

“Not sure actually. You’re going to have to ask Preston on that one.”

“He found them?”

“Yep.”

“He really could’ve done a better job.”

“Well, to be fair, I don’t think any of us were focusing on flowers and their respective properties as clothing or as armor at that exact moment in time.”

“Armor?”

“You never know what a situation calls for!”

“Fine, I’ll give you that.”

“Thank you.”  _Damn it, Nerris, you’re going soft. I mean, actually seeing eye to eye with the sworn enemy? Suggesting that you take him on in a few rounds of Uno after he confided to you that he wants to lay off magic for a couple of days? Enjoying spending time with him? Is that something friends do? **Is**  he your friend?_

Before she could properly deliberate on the implications of voicing this inquiry to him aloud, he interrupted her, expression uncharacteristically stern in its intensity.

“Speaking of Preston, I’m worried about him.”

“What?”  _That_  was an unexpected shift in both mood and conversation topic.

“Haven’t you noticed that he hasn’t quite seemed like himself lately?”

“Well, he  _has_  been working on some “secret” script pretty much nonstop since we got back, and you know how he is when he gets into the “writer’s zone”–”

“I know that, but I just…” He appeared to be struggling with what to articulate next if the way his face was currently contorting had anything to say about it. “It seems like he’s been sort of distant since we got back from the forest, and part of me wonders if it’s because of what he gave up to that…that thing. We still don’t know what he took, Nerris. What if it was something important?” His features remained surprisingly calm and composed, but she could see him wringing his hands together, the fingers twitching and trembling without apparent rhyme or reason in a manifestation of his innermost anxiety.

“How long have you been worried about this? Since we got back?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” He rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly, avoiding her stare.

Okay, now she  _knew_  that there was something he wasn’t telling her.

“That’s not all, is it?”

A sense of suffocatingly tense silence permeated the mess hall as Nerris drummed her fingers on the wooden tabletop, her patience finally failing her.

“Harrison.”

He exhaled the breath he must’ve been holding in. “It shouldn’t…he shouldn’t have…I should’ve been the one to give something up, not him. Preston’s not the one who got everyone into this mess, I did, and he shouldn’t have had to pay for something that he got embroiled in simply because he was at the wrong place at the wrong time.” 

“And you haven’t told him this because…?”

“I’m…scared to.” His head tilted up ever so slightly at the mumbled confession, and the unconcealed shame shining in his eyes confirmed her suspicions. “I don’t want to lose a friendship over this, not with you or with him, and that’s why I’m scared.”

_A friendship with you. A friendship with you. A friendship with you._

The echoing mantra made her feel lighter, somehow, lighter than she had felt in a while.

“Well, I can tell you that you don’t have to worry about that with me,” she murmured after a minute, “and I’m almost positive that you don’t have to worry about that with him either, but I think you’re right, there is something going on with him.” She pushed her glasses back up onto the bridge of her nose. Pesky things, always slipping. “Let’s both go talk to him this afternoon, shall we? Surely he can’t ignore the sorceress and the magician when they come knocking at his chambers, right?”

He was slack-jawed. _Magician_. She’d never referred to him as a magician before.

“Yes, I’d…I’d like that. Oh, and Nerris?”

“Yeah?”

“Draw four.” He slammed down the card with as much force as he could muster, the flimsy item ricocheting under the weight of his palm as it met a wooden surface.

There was a barely contained screech of raw, untapped fury at this. “ _You little asshole!_ ”

“Not so little anymore, though, yes?”

“Screw you, cheater.” She stuck out her tongue at him.

“I’m not a cheater!”

“If you lose, then no. If you win, then yes.”

“…You’re very aggravating sometimes, you know that?”

“If by  _aggravating_  you mean _adorable_ , then yeah, I am.”

Harrison grinned even as he shook his head. Oh, she was going to  _get_  it now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how I keep insisting that I'm going to wrap this thing up and I keep adding chapters to it? Yeah, it's happened again.
> 
> Anyways, this was honestly supposed to be the last chapter, but I got carried away with writing dialogue and was having so much fun doing it that the words just kind of propelled themselves on to the screen before I could stop them. Besides, I think the cheeky banter of this chapter will be a nice prelude to the heavier stuff I'm planning on incorporating into the next (and hopefully last) chapter, so it really all works out in the end. 
> 
> Not really sure when this will update again because I'm back in school and have been sick on and off the past couple of weeks, but I'll try to carve out some time to finish it soon. Also, I'm kind of playing around with the idea of writing a little one-shot just for shits and giggles before finishing this story with that idea of Neil getting bippity-boppity-booped into a sprite in mind, so maybe be on the lookout for that?


	8. Revelations

The set of pallets keeping the small stage from collapsing beneath its own weight creaked as soon as Harrison and Nerris stepped on the rickety platform, announcing their arrival prematurely. Beyond the drawn curtain, there was a scuffling sound, and an irritated grumble as pen was lifted from paper unwillingly.

“For the LAST TIME, you NEED to stop fretting over Harrison’s trick! Honestly, Neil, I don’t want to tell you how you should and shouldn’t live your life, but the bags under your eyes literally have bags at this point, and though I’m frankly concerned, I’m only going to say this once more: GO GET SOME SLEEP AND STOP PESTERING ME!” With a huff, the thespian’s tirade dissolved into a series of furious scribbles as he resumed whatever he had been working on previously.

Harrison met Nerris’s gaze, swallowing uneasily. “Perhaps he’s not in the mood to see anyone right now, even us, so maybe we should wait until he’s more–”

Three knocks in quick succession cut him off. “The fair lady and the less-than-fair warlock request an audience with the astute bard if he wishes to have us.”

“Dwarf, magician, now warlock? Which one is it, Nerris?”

“Hush! Interrupting your gracious sorceress is most unbecoming of you, knave.”

The illusionist had just barely rolled his eyes in exasperation at that comment when he and Nerris were both unceremoniously yanked into the blackened alcove that was none other than the theater’s right wing. In the span of a few days’ time, it seemed to have become less of a place to store props and more of a wild animal’s den if the state of mass disarray was anything to go by. Scraps of parchment littered the floorboards, many-colored candy wrappers were strewn about like handfuls of rainbow confetti that would be found at a Fourth of July parade, and at the center of the war zone was a wooden desk where an inkwell, a feathered quill, and a sizable manuscript were all being illuminated by the light of one tiny, flickering lamp that looked as if it were knocking at death’s door. 

To someone who wasn’t accustomed to this type of erratic behavior nor this type of execrable mess, it would’ve been a troubling, borderline frightening sight indeed, but this was Preston Goodplay they were talking about here, and they knew better than to question his methods when he was in such a state as this.

“Of COURSE the bard accepts the lovely lady’s request! Come in, come in, I have something to show you that I think you’re both REALLY going to like!”

“Okay, we’ll look at it, but then we need to talk to you, all right?” Nerris chanced a glance at Harrison and nodded, her mouth set in a hard line, and he bobbed his head back in reply, newfound determination glinting in his olive eyes.

Carefully picking their way around the piles of clutter, the magic kids approached the worktable with caution. Though nothing had been said aloud, it was almost like a telepathic message had been sent between them:  _Let him make the first move because if you don’t, there could very well be hell to pay_.

And he came, eagerly bounding up to them, his long limbs swinging to and fro as he gently lifted the stack of papers and handed them to Nerris, smiling so broadly that she was afraid his face was going to split open from the force of it. 

“Now, it doesn’t have a title yet, and it’s nowhere near finished, but tell me what you think.” He lowered his voice an octave, stance shifting into something serious. “And please, as my dearest friends, don’t sugarcoat it if it’s bad.”

Leafing through the script page by handwritten page, it didn’t take either of them long to figure out why exactly Preston had been holed up for a good majority of the week in this dank, slightly disgusting spot. Here was four acts of a five-act play that told a story about three protagonists, three heroes, alongside three acquaintances that had been led into an enchanted wood by a morally dubious man only to become tricked and transformed into inhuman, goblin-like creatures. There was more to it than that, but as Nerris casually flipped through it, she couldn’t help but raise her eyebrows at the last line he’d jotted down, the black ink of it a bit smudged as if it hadn’t had time to properly dry before being put aside.

“‘…And what shall you bequeath to me, young one?’ Raising his head to meet the vacancies produced by her hollowed-out eye sockets, Philip addressed the Queen of Lichen with as much poise as he could muster. ‘For you, kindly mistress of these lands, I will give something I treasure almost as much as the very air that passes in and out of my lungs or the strands of sunlight, sweet in their constancy, that caress my face each and every morning: a memory.’”

To her left, Harrison issued a low grunt, his own eyebrows knit in confusion as he tried to take in what he’d just heard. Ever so slowly, she lowered the incomplete document, turning towards Preston with an expression of pure bewilderment.

“I…I don’t–”

“Is this true?” Harrison waggled a single finger at the dramatist, frowning. He looked to Nerris for supplementary support, but found that the poor girl seemed thoroughly shell-shocked. Honestly, if she couldn’t even find it in her at the moment to be mad at or to scold the magician for so  _rudely_  interrupting the endearing and engaging lady of the highest order, then she really had been taken aback by this development. “Is this true? Did you…did you actually give up your memory?”

“Yes, I’m afraid to say that it is indeed true.” Every ounce of his former verve and vigor had dissipated without warning, and Harrison could now make out the disheveled state of his hair and the dark circles lining his eyes from a lack of sleep. Absently, he thought maybe his friend should follow his own advice and get some much-needed rest, but he held back the insolent quip before it could slip out unchecked. Moseying over to the side of the stage, Preston tossed back the wine-red drape separating them from the outside world, scanned the area directly in front of the bandstand, and drew it to a close when he was satisfied with what he had seen or, well, perhaps had  _not_  seen. Planting himself on the flooring, he motioned for Nerris and Harrison to join him, face and gestures solemn. As soon as they had situated themselves on either side of him, he began, voice more tempered and more even than they had ever heard it before.

“I need you both to promise me something.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Anything, Pres, you name it.”

“You can’t let anyone in the camp know what I’m about to tell you, okay? Not the other campers, not the Quartermaster, not even the counselors. I think David may already know, but on the off-chance he doesn’t, this needs to stay between us.”

“No problem.” They chimed in unison.

He smiled, but it was an exhausted sort of smile. “All right, here goes. Yes, I gave up a memory, but it wasn’t just any memory. It had to be a good memory, one of significant value is what he said. I heard him in my head, talking to me, singling me out, telling me that I had something he wanted if I’d be willing to give it up for the greater good.  _Just one memory you will not even miss because you won’t be able to recall what it is that’s missing, yes?_  Well, I gave it to him, and I gave it to him because it seemed fair, it seemed just, and I thought it wasn’t too much of a price to pay for returning to normal. I mean, I can’t say this with certainty, but I got the sense that he wouldn’t have taken anything from anyone else. It  _had_  to be me.”

“…What was the memory of, Preston?” Nerris whispered, careful not to shatter the stillness in the air by speaking too loudly.

There was a pause as he collected his thoughts, inhaling. “I know you two aren’t much for musicals, but I assume you do know the opening line of  _Hamilton_ by now, right?” He started up, singing softly. “ _How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore_ …that line, you know that line?” When they confirmed that they did, in fact, know the line, he swallowed thickly, eyes dipping down. “Well, I’m not all of those things, but I can assure you that I am  _one_  of those things.” A beat of silence. “My parents were killed in a car crash when I was five. I don’t remember much of it, but I was told that it involved a drunk driver who’d had a few too many drinks at a bar downtown and that I was the only one out of the four caught up in the collision to, erm, make…make it out. The police took me to my granny, and I’ve been staying with her ever since. I think…no, I know it was hard on her to lose her only child like that, and I don’t think she wanted to lose more family, so she takes care of me even though she’s not in the best health, but it works out fine.”

By now he was busying himself with a rusty nail poking out of the weathered wood, idly twisting it back and forth as he continued on. “I have a few memories of them, though, before the accident happened. There was one time that my mom took me to a local production of  _Peter Pan_  or something like that and I remember sitting in the audience while watching all of those performers and thinking that that’s what I wanted to do one day, to make things or act in things that made others feel the way I felt in that moment. She bought me an ice cream cone afterwards, my mother, and I don’t know if I’d ever been happier or felt more loved.” God, he was crying, and if he could tell that he was crying, then surely they could tell that he was crying. “I gave him a memory of me with my parents, nothing more, nothing less, and I couldn’t tell you for the life of me what the memory contained or why exactly he wanted it, but he has it with him now, so I’m not going to make a big deal about it. You can’t be sad about something or miss something that you can’t remember, especially when you still have other good memories intact, so I don’t…I don’t regret what I did. I know that’s what you two were worried about, but really, I’m okay, will be okay. What’s done is done.”

He sniffled and belted out a watery laugh as two bodies collectively lunged at him, pulling him into a warm embrace. Preston hugged them back, sighing happily. It was as if a substantial burden he hadn’t known he’d been carrying was lifted from his chest, allowing him to breathe easily for the first time in a while.

They sat in companionable silence, clinging to one another for dear life, as the sky turned from its usual cobalt blue to a shade of rich magenta in their absence. Finally, a bell rang in the distance, signaling that it was dinnertime, and the trio reluctantly unwound themselves from their position curled up on the hardwood floor, stretching as they did so, before standing to walk hand-in-hand to the mess hall.

About halfway to their destination, Nerris decided to put a definitive end to the noiselessness that had enveloped them. Only then would she know if things were truly okay.

“You should know for future reference that I told Harrison if he ever figures out how he did his little magic trick, I want him to try it out on me to see what would happen.” She enounced, skipping ahead of the boys with a mirthful twinkle in her eye.

“ _ **WHAT?!**_ ” Ah,  _there_  was the passionate playwright they knew and, well, liked quite a lot they supposed. “No, no, ABSOLUTELY NOT. You didn’t AGREE to THAT, did you?!” 

Harrison shrugged, a smirk already on his lips. “As her squire, I can’t deny the lady such a bold request.”

“YOU SURE AS HELL CAN!”

“We’ll see, Preston, we’ll see.”

“NO, we WON’T be SEEING!” Shaking his head vigorously, he started prattling on about why exactly that was a horrible, terrible, you-two-are-going-to-give-me-a-heart-attack sort of plan.

And just like that, a strange situation was solved with a strange solution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: *sees that Preston's parents aren't around for Parents' Day*  
> my brain: Ah, so they're dead. Good to know.
> 
> Last official chapter of this story! It's been years since I've written (much less completed) a full-length, multi-chapter fanfic, so to say that I've accomplished just that is a very sweet feeling indeed. This chapter is a little longer than the others simply because it delves into some personal headcanons of mine and, well, the emotional cues had to be spot-on, and that takes a bit of finesse on my part to get down properly, you know? Also, the use of nontraditional items in bargaining is one of my favorite things in tales involving the Fae, so Preston giving up a memory made perfect sense and provided a nice backdrop for some delicious, delicious angst for our poor playwright.
> 
> Anyways, while the story is officially done, I'm keeping it open-ended for a while because I'm debating on whether I want to write one more chapter that would be sort of like a bonus chapter? Just something rather silly that wouldn't necessarily supplement the story, but would go along with it. Until I make that decision, though, enjoy the potential ending of a story that's pretty good (if I do say so myself). ;)

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first Camp Camp fanfic, and I'm sorry to say that I haven't actually had the time to watch the series in its entirety yet, but I've been itching to write this for a while now, so why wait? I tried to get the feel of the characters as best I could, but would appreciate the feedback if any of you thought I did something particularly good or particularly bad. I'm planning on writing three parts to this, but we'll see how far I get with that what with the holidays coming up. Anyways, hope you enjoy!
> 
> Side note: Preston is supposed to be a brownie while Harrison is supposed to be a pixie/sprite with wings that resemble a golden tortoise beetle. I may get into that more later on, but for now, have that visual for yourself.


End file.
